Little Lies Big Secrets. (Novella)

Chapter 9||A Fathers Love

"A woman must not depend on the protection of man, but must be taught to protect herself."~Susan B. Anthony
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I have always believed a father should care for their children. I used to believe that mine did. But after that day, my perspective changed. My father was, and is, different. He may have loved me before, but he always loved her more. And now, now there is just anger and blame.

I know he stays at work as long as possible. It's not really hard, seeing as he is a police officer. The job is pretty busy. But when he is home, it's like we're strangers. I don't know why I still try. I guess I feel like I have to. All the therapy has told me that it's not my fault, but that doesn't mean I listen. To dad, I didn't do enough. I didn't save her. I don't know if anything I do will ever be enough for him. I keep thinking, hoping, that one day; he'll forgive me.

Life has been interesting these past few days. I've learned many interesting things about Cameron. I continue to spend a lot of time with him. More than I would prefer. But Jay and I are not how we used to be. Jazmin is pulling away as well. I miss her, it's not really me to tell her that though. I wish things could rewind. If only I could just snap my fingers and make it all back to normal. Although, the version of normal in my life is the opposite of everyone else's. But it's what normal to me. I always think if I did have the ability to go back. Would I go back and save her? Would I be able to? I always wonder if maybe it was her time. People say that everyone has their time. It's not always fair.

I decide to stop my train of thoughts and eat food. I'd rather not have mom being more worried about me. I really don't want her to try those sessions again.

I put together a sandwich and nibble on it. The lettuce is sad looking. If there was anything that could show how I feel all the time, it would be this lettuce. Instead of eating, like I probably should have been, I'm just sitting here staring at the lettuce. I'm counting all the ways this lettuce and I are the same. I am probably the saddest person in the world. I don't think many people compare themselves to lettuce.

"What are you doing?" Dads voice booms through the silence. I get so startled I dropped my sandwich. I look at dad and he has the same expression he always does; distant and angry. I clear my throat and wipe my hands on my pants nervously.

"Eating?" I phrase it as a question because I'm not even sure what I'm doing. I don't do anything. I'll eventually need someone to pull my strings for me.

"You're supposed to put the food in your mouth, Ophelia." Dad grunts and removes his jacket. Suits always confuse me. He's wearing a jacket, but the suit makes it look like there's another one. Too many layers. It's confusing.

"I know," I whisper my answer toward my sandwich. I see from the corner of my eye, that dad takes a seat across from me. What is he doing? Why is he sitting? He never sits. Something must be wrong. Are they kicking me out? Am I too much?

"Ophelia, we should talk." My dad sits very professionally. It bothers me. He may be an officer, but at home, he's my dad. He should sit dad-like.

"Do I have to leave?" I ask quietly. I chance a peek at him, he looks confused. Which is a rare look on dads face.

"Why on earth would you think that?" I shrug my shoulders. "Use your words." After the 'incident' I didn't want to talk for a while. I went mute. They both have an irrational fear of me doing it again. No offence to those who chose to be mute, it sucks. It wasn't quite as pleasing as I wished it to be. So no, I will not be choosing to be mute again. Of course, they don't think that. My words hold very little under this roof.